The Devil's Kiss
by sjsjtd2007
Summary: Hell sweeps through Oliver Kirkland's home...quite literally. When the Devil takes over, it's a battle of odds and time. The characters are not mine, nor is Hetalia or any other references. The story, however, is. Also, I made the cover image. That took some time but hey.


"So… Allen wasn't joking," Francois said, walking into the room where the Brit sat in a small chair, legs crossed and hands folded.

Oliver looked up at him, his eyes piercing. "Well, hello, _poppet_." A smile crept onto his face. It wasn't the same creepy smile he always wore. It wasn't even his smile. The devilish grin held someone entirely different underneath.

Francois looked at Oliver's feet. Something was crudely spray painted below him in red. The Brit was tied to the chair he sat in and handcuffs bound his hands to his lap. The restrains made Francois cringe when he realized that they were for pleasure.

He guessed that that was all Allen had at hand.

"Let Oliver go," Francois demanded.

The creature cocked his head to the side and blinked. "Now why would I do that?"

His accent wasn't quite British, he noticed. It was more Scottish, and he felt that Oliver would have a cow if he heard his own voice speaking like that.

He creature taking Oliver's body started giggling. "You know, your boy Allen isn't as stupid as you take him for." He looked down at the paint on the floor. "He did his research." He tapped a foot at the paint and frowned. "I'd scrape it away if I weren't bound, though…" He looked up. "He took precautions."

Francois looked at the ceiling where Allen had painted a pentagram with symbols inside of it. He squinted and flipped a light switch on.

The demon didn't even flinch. "Your little friend here plays with too much bad magic. It was going to bite him in the ass sooner or later."

"Can he hear us," Francois asked calmly.

"Very much so," the demon snickered.

Francois took a step forward. "Oliver," he whispered, staring at his old friend's body. "Oliver, please," he breathed.

He buckled forward and gasped outwardly, growling. Francois jumped back and stared in fear.

"Fr-Francois!" He looked up, gasping. "I… I can't hold him," Oliver whined. He had a pained expression on his face and his whole body was stiff. "Please, get the book from my study! It's small and black and says, _Aequaliter Nubila incantamenta_." He winced and gasped. "Page… 42 The incantation is wh0what you need. That will he- Ah!" He slammed his back against the chair and an inhuman growled came from his lips.

Without a second thought, Francois ran from the room and stood silent for a moment. He looked at Allen and snapped for him to watch Oliver while he raided the study.

He went into the study and scanned the shelves until he found the dusty little book. He opened it and sure enough, he found an incantation on the forty-second page. He went back to the room that Allen had Oliver tied up in and glared at the demon.

"What's that," Allen asked.

"I was able to get through to Oliver for a moment," Francois said, breathing hard. His heart was pounding against his ribcage. "He told me that this would help."

Allen nodded. "If you want, I can read it."

Francois shook his head. "My Latin is very very rusty," and by that, he meant that he'd mostly forgotten the language. "But I can pronounce the words correctly."

Allen nodded, figuring that he was right and stepped back.

The Frenchman held the book up to his eyes.

The demon hissed at him. "You son of a bitch."

"Swear jar," Allen said, smirking as Francois began reading.

"_elementum recolligo huic locus_," Francois said. The demon shifted and growled under his breath, glaring at the two.

"_Commodo mihi vestri vox_," the demon tugged and fought against his bindings and cried out in pain. Allen smiled and bit his lip, nodding for Francois to finish.

The Frenchman took a careful breath and read the last lines,"_elementum unda ego dico vos. permissum pluit. is est meus nos sic vadum is exsisto_."

The demon screamed loudly, making the two jump and step back. The scream was long and pained, and it slowly died into…laughter.

The creature laughed and laughed as if it had heard the best joke in the world.

Allen and Francois stood, frozen in fear.

"What the fuck…?" Allen shook, as the monster lowered his head to look at the two, smiling.

"Wait for it…." Suddenly, a loud boom shook the house. Allen screamed and Francois backed up against a wall. The demon laughed again.

There was the sound of tires against gravel outside and a loud bang of a car door slamming. The house door opened, making Francois and Allen jump again.

"Fran? Al!" Matt's heavy footsteps echoed through the hall and the door opened. He stood in the doorway, drenched in water. He looked between the two wide-eyed nations, and then lowered his gaze to the man in the chair. "…Oliver?"

"Wh-why are you soaking wet…?" Allen swallowed.

"Because," Matt growled. "Apparently this city has a shitty weatherman. Out of nowhere we go a storm. Look outside. It's raining like Hell."

"No pun intended," The monster chuckled. "You're so desperate to save your little friend that you didn't bother to translate the book you just grabbed."

Francois looked at the book and said, "I…grabbed the wrong one?"

"No, you fool. You were told to grab one that you didn't want." The creature smiled and said in a very convincing tone, "Poppet! Save me, please! This horrible creature has me-"

"You tricked us," Allen snapped. He took a threatening step for ward and Matt grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't hit him, man."

Allen looked back at Matt.

"It's still Ollie."

The American shook and bit his lip. Tears started streaming down his face and he turned to leave the room. Francois leaned against the wall, deflated.

"Get out for a while. I'll watch this fucker," Matt said.

"Swear jar," The creature mocked.

Francois stepped into the kitchen where Allen was sitting at the bar with a cold cup of coffee. He sat next to him and stared forward.

"What's the symbol that you painted?"

Allen blinked and looked at Francois, dazed. "Sorry, what?"

"The pentagram thing."

"Oh," Allen chuckled. "It's called a 'Devil's Trap'. It holds demons in one place. I carved the symbol on the handcuffs, too… And on the chair. He can't move… hopefully."

Francois raised his brows, impressed. "Where'd you learn that?"

Allen bit his lip and tapped the table. "Supernatural."

"You mean that television show you're obsessed with?"

Allen nodded. "I did a lot of research on the stuff when I got into the show. They do a lot of research on lure and such before making the characters spit out information." He sighed. "I thought that maybe if you came over, you'd be able to coax Oliver out. "

Francois looked down and sighed.

"It's not your fault. Demons are assholes." He patted Francois' shoulder. "Maybe with all of us here it'll be easier." He stood up and looked outside. Rain was pouring from the sky. "Come on. I'm gonna make some holy water."

"What will that do," Francois asked, standing up.

"It'll burn the little fucker, that's what."

The clock in the small room ticked louder than necessary. Matt squinted in the dim light, staring at Oliver, who was staring back with eyes full of contempt.

"You're smarter than the others," he remarked.

The Canadian leaned back and raised a brow. He wasn't expecting a compliment from an enemy. "Since I'm not going to call you Oliver," he started, still eyeing the demon.

"Gavin," he said, leaning back as well. The atmosphere slowly shifted from tense to casual.

"Alright. Fucker it is," Matt said and stood up.

Gavin frowned and yanked against his chains again, frustrated. "The American isn't completely stupid either."

Matt ignored the ranting demon and he shuffled through Oliver's magic stuff. There were bottles and jars on the small table and books that were opened and marked on some pages. A pile of glass and liquid was on the floor next to the shelf by the window. He drew the curtains and peered into the darkness. He'd been there for only an hour and the day had fallen into dusk The clock read 18:00, and Matt found it hard to believe that it was already night. The winter solstice was slowly creeping closer.

He left the curtains parted and inspected the broken glass that was evidence of the struggle between Oliver, Allen, and Gavin.

"What was in this."

Gavin twisted to see and pressed his lips together. "Eye of newt, maybe?"

Matt shot him a look, to which he responded, "What? It's a guess. I never bothered with witchcraft."

There weren't any eyeballs in the glass and clear liquid, so the eye of newt was ruled out. He found a trash bin and carefully placed shards into it to avoid any accidents. One shard had a soggy paper label on it. He frowned at the label and dropped the glass in disgust. "Fucking hell, Oliver…"

"Was it gross?"

"Very," Matt groaned and searched for something to wipe his hands off on. He'd hoped that it was something like holy water or liquefied jellyfish guts. He scrubbed his hands off on a few tissues and hoped that Allen would show up soon so that he could actually wash his hands.

The demon huffed, sounding bored and stared at the ceiling.

"You could just leave him," Matt suggested.

"No such luck," he smiled and looked at Matt. His eyes were inhumanly dark and it was an unnerving sight on Oliver's face.

"I didn't think so," Matt sighed and took his chair next to the door.

The doorknob clicked and Allen carefully walked in. "Hey, bro. Franny and I will take over for a while."

Matt thankfully stood up and started past Allen. "What's that," he asked, pointing at the jug of water in Francois' arms.

"Nothing special," Allen said.

Matt frowned, then pointed at the spill. "Don't touch the glass on the floor…"

"Why? What was in the jar?"

"You don't want to know," Matt walked past Francois and went straight for the bathroom.

Allen shrugged and closed the door behind Francois. The Frenchman walked behind the demon and stood there silently.

Gavin tried turning to see him, but failed to do so. He settled on looking at Allen, who was pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

"You gonna leave Ollie's body or do we have to do this the hard way," Allen asked as he unfolded the paper.

"Do your worst."

The American nodded at Francois, who uncapped the jug and dumped over half of the contents on the demon.

Upon contact, smoke rose from his flesh and an inhuman screech erupted from his throat. The chains tightened on all of its hinges as the demonic presence tired to buck away from the burning water.

Allen cleared his throat and started reading from the paper and partially from memory. "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_," he said, glaring at the monster in his friend.

Another shriek. The monster howled and pulled at his confides.

"_omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion_ _infernalis adversarii, omnis legio_,"

"_**ENOUGH!**_"

Allen hesitated, losing his place.

"You won't evict me," he snarled. "Not unless _God himself_ dawns from the Heavens and tears me from this body, I'm going nowhere! So go ahead. Read your little exorcism. It's not going to save your precious Brit."

Allen swallowed and helplessly looked up at Francois. He went back to read more, but couldn't speak. He froze and bit his lip.

The creature cocked his head back, laughing violently.

Francois growled and shoved the opening of the jug into his opened mouth and forced the holy water down his throat.

Shocked, Gavin sputtered and choked on the burning water, hissing and trying to shake his head away from the jug. In the end he was drenched in the water. It sizzled on his flesh and burned his throat. He coughed and wheezed as Francois rounded the chair and took Allen's shoulder.

"I… I can't I …" Allen looked up at Francois with tears in his eyes.

The Frenchman sighed and let Allen hug him. He kept his eyes away from the heaving demon.

It started laughing again. "I win," it giggled. "I win! I win!" The monster weaved side-to-side, singing "I win" over and over again.

Francois tensed up and gritted his teeth, the raspy voice of the cheerful demon was acid to his ears. He broke away from Allen with every intention of hitting him in the throat. Allen grabbed at Francois' shirt, desperately holding him back.

"NO!" Allen yanked at Francois who was still fighting to attack the laughing demon. "Fran its still Ollie! Don't hurt Oliver!"

Francois froze. The two panted and shook in the moment.

Gavil cocked his head to the side and let his eyes go black again. He impersonated Oliver again and said, "Yes, poppet! It's me! It's me!" His lips curled up into a twisted smile, which gave them both chills. His voice dropped several octaves as he said, "_Don't hurt me, poppets_!"

They backed up. The demon started laughing maniacally again.

Allen twisted around and threw himself though the door, almost knocking into Matt on his way out. He ran straight for the front door and burst through, not bothering to close it behind himself.

Francois was still speechless and held up a helpless hand for Allen and looked at Matt. His eyes were wide and he looked pale.

Matt blinked and looked back at Gavin, who sat looking entirely normal. The smile was gone and the black in his eyes were as well. He looked at Fran, who was slowly lowering his arms to his sides again.

"What the fuck happened…" Matt shook his head. "Never mind. Go chase after Allen. Now."

Francois hesitated, then nodded and bolted for the door and out of the house. It was the fastest Matt had ever seen the old man move. He turned back and noticed that the demon was soaking wet.

He looked down and picked up the paper that Allen had dropped on his way out.

Matt cursed. "He tried a fucking exorcism?" He stared at the paper then slowly straightened up. "He tried an exorcism," he said with less grit. He looked up at the demon that was simply staring at him.

"Do you have an idea," the demon growled with a sadistic smile.

Matt tossed the paper aside. "I think I do." He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Pick up… pick up…"

"Hey, babe," Flavio said. "I was about to call your brother to invite you guys out for drinks. You miss me that much?"

"Flavio, we need your help."

The front door opened and Francois walked in with Allen behind him. They were both soaked.

"Baby, you know I'll do my best. What's up? Problems in paradise?"

"This," He nodded to Allen and his brother started walking over, arms pressed over his chest. "This has nothing to do with that. Flavio, I need you to get your brother and find your best exorcist."

There was a long silence. "That's not funny, Matt."

Matt swallowed and showed Allen Flavio's name on the phone. He pressed it to his ear again and bit his lip. "I'm not laughing, Flav."

Silence again. "Let me talk to Allen. He's a terrible liar."

Matt looked at Allen.

"Unless... he's the one…?"

"No, here, talk to him."

Allen took the phone. "Flav," he said, his voice breaking.

"Holy shit. Matt isn't kidding," Flavio said.

Allen shoved the phone in Matt's hands and went straight to his room.

Matt took the phone back and said, "Flavio, can you help us?"

There was a soft muffle in the background and Flavio came back. "I know of some good people. Who's house are we coming to?"

"Oliver's," Matt said, sparing the demon a glace. In return, he smiled wickedly. Matt turned away. "It's bad." He looked at Francois, who was still pale and in a fog. "It's getting worse."

"You leave everything to me. Just keep that son of a bitch there." The phone went dead and Matt clicked his off. He sighed and leaned against the wall.

"And here I thought we were friends," the demon cooed.

"Fuck you," Matt sighed.

Francois slowly walked up to Matt. "I'm going to.. I'm going to get some clothes." He looked up at Matt and forced himself to keep his eyes off of his old friend.

"That's a good idea. Get something comfortable… It's going to be a long ass night."

Francois walked away, leaving Matt to solemnly wonder what the son of a bitch could have done to make those two freak out like they did. He looked back at his old caretaker and frowned. He decided to scavenge some latex gloves from a drawer next to the shelf and a few paper towels. Apparently Oliver liked to stay clean while playing with magic, considering the ingredients he used.

Matt cleaned the messes on the floor and moved all of the breakable objects on to the shelves. He marked any opened books and placed them on the shelf as well, making sure that Oliver could pick up where he was if he intended. Matt just hoped Oliver wouldn't try to invoke any more spirits. He found one book that was all about spirits and trying to connect with them.

He noticed that Oliver had been more interested in that side of the supernatural. He even found him asking Allen for more information about spirits.

However, Oliver was very disinterested in the subject of demons. That was evident in the books he had open. None of them were marked on pages dealing with demons or possessions.

On one shelf he found a blade that was likely used to draw blood during incantations and rituals. He took it a sheathed it, then stuffed it into his pocket.

Matt spared a glare at the demon, which was softly humming to itself. After some listening, Matt recognized the tune to be one of Oliver's favorite songs. It was by Pink Floyd, and as much as the pink Brit denied it, he loved bands like that.

Matt bit his lip and forced himself to not yell a the demon for invading Oliver's mind.

He pushed the table to the wall and out of the way. He looked down at the hardwood floor and noticed that the paint under the demon was smearing. He wondered what the symbol was or if it even did anything.

It was on the ceiling as well. The drawing was crude and the paint was smearing awkwardly. He noticed that Allen carved the same symbol on the back of the chair that Mr. Gavin was in. He concluded that whatever it was, it was probably to hold the demon in place.

He closed the curtains to the window. He felt like the outside world didn't need to see this dark entity.

On the floor he found the jug that Francois had. He picked it up and looked inside. "Is there a necklace in here…?"

"Rosary," Gavin corrected. "The American used it to make holy water."

That explained the water everywhere. Matt was impressed.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Matt turned to see Allen standing in the doorway. His hair was wet, but he had dry clothes on. "Hey, bro." Matt smiled. "It's cool. I just need you to make a few more of these. Can you do that?"

Allen shot a nasty look at the demon. "Yeah. Of course."

He backed out of the room and left Matt alone. He looked over at who used to be Oliver. That thought pained him.

"Do you really think that an Italian priest can do anything for you fools?"

Matt swallowed and snapped, "It'd be better than an amateur exorcism."

"I told them before, lad." He twisted his neck and grinned at Matt. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not scared as easily as they are." Matt leaned against the wall and glared at him.

"He thinks highly of you, you know? You're his best friend. Someone he can always depend on." Gavin tilted his head to the side. "You're the calm one. The nice one."

"Your point?"

"You have the weight of the world on your back," he said, batting his eyes. "You're always expected to be strong for everyone else while everyone falls apart." He yanked at the restraints to look Matt in the eye. "If you fall apart, what will happen, hm? Either everyone will hate you or everyone will fall apart even worse, but either way…" He grinned. "You. Lose."

Matt stared at him for a long time. "What's your fucking point?"

"No point, poppet…. Why do you let him be so nice to you, anyhow? From what I gather, he was a bastard. Poor boy. Taken from your papa and forced to learn English to be your first language. You were so invisible that the Nordics, the great Vikings, passed your land without a second thought."

Matt sighed and leaned back.

"Doesn't it bother you that everyone takes you for granted? If not you, it's the other little Canadian."

"You can leave him out of this, thanks." Matt frowned. He suddenly realized the mistake in his words.

"Oh," He hummed. "I hit a nerve."

Matt frowned and circled him so that they were facing each other, and so that he wasn't twisting in that uncomfortable position. He hated seeing Oliver bent out of shape when a demon didn't care to take care of the body it was possessing. "He has nothing to do with this."

"Is he in this room," the demon taunted. "I mean, it's not like I'd ever see him. It is a he, yes?"

"Knock it off," Matt muttered, trying to keep his cool.

"I don't like the way your 'bro' looks at him either. It's a little too flirtatious for-"

"Enough," Matt snapped, stepping forward. "Allen wouldn't do that to me. Sure, he's a dick, but he's not a bad guy." He stepped closer to Gavin and got in his face. "Now shut the fuck u-"

Gavin lifted his knees and reached up with his hands to grab the collar of Matt's shirt, then forcefully yanked Matt forward. His teeth sank into the Canadian's neck. Matt cried out and tried pulling away, only to have the demon sink its teeth into his flesh even more.

Mat struggled and cried out. The door opened and water splashed over the two of them, making Gavin scream in pain.

Matt fell backwards and clamped a hand over his neck. Allen held his brother's shoulders. "Are you okay?! Fuck, Mattie, you're bleeding. Fuck."

"He- he fucking bit me," Matt panted. "I fucked up it's my fault." He patted his jeans with his free hand. "Where's the-"

Allen gasped and stood sill for a long moment.

"Al?"

Allen blinked and looked at Matt before falling to his knees and hunching over, exposing a knife in his back and a terrifying Brit standing behind him.

"Oops," the demon giggled, flashing his black eyes at Matt. He was standing in line with the chair, and Matt realized that that was the only place he could stand. "Your Frenchman broke the trap on the floor. The one on the ceiling was already trash."

Matt was leaning over Allen, checking his vitals. "The cuffs…?"

Metal clanging bounced on the floor. The handcuffs' symbols had scratches all over them.

Gavin smiled at Matt. His eyes turned all back and the blood from his neck was dripping down his chin.

Matt grabbed Allen under the shoulders and dragged him out of the room as fast as he could. Gavin started after them and made it through the threshold of the door. He grinned and slammed the door behind him and stared at the two, grinning.

"Looks like I'm free, boys." He stepped to the side, as if to prove that he was no longer bound to any traps.

Allen groaned and Matt carefully set him upright against the wall and stood up, facing the smaller man. He was chuckling viciously.

"Mattie," Allen gasped. "My room. Go… drawer…" He coughed and winced.

Matt didn't break eye contact with the demon and stepped back towards his brother's room.

Gavin broke into a full sprint at Matt.

The Canadian quickly twisted around and bolted for the door that was plastered with "Caution" signs and yellow tape. He jumped with a leg extended towards the door and broke it open. He got his balance and ran for the drawer and yanked it open.

He frantically threw socks out, looking for whatever Allen could have sent him in there for.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," Gavin growled.

He looked over his shoulder and winced in pain. Gavin was standing in one place in the middle of the floor looking up.

Matt followed his eyes and let out a shaky breath of relief. He fell to the floor and started laughing in disbelief.

Allen had a very neat and sophisticated Devil's Trap on the ceiling that made the one in the other room look like child's play. This trap was more complicated and had more symbols.

"This isn't funny," Gavin hissed at the Canadian.

Matt let out a quivering breath and said, "Oh, no, it's fucking hilarious." He got up and walked around the angry entity, and found Allen on the floor. He panted and groaned. "We need to get you fixed up, bro."

Allen looked up and held a hand out, which Matt gratefully took. "It's a flesh wound," he wheezed. "How's the neck?"

Matt hadn't taken his hand off of it. "I'm afraid to let go." He sighed and threw an arm around Allen, careful not to hurt him. "I will never make fun of your obsession over Supernatural again."

"What about my obsession for Avatar?"

"Until the Fire Nation attacks…"

"No luck?"

Matt chuckled and pulled away. "No luck." He turned back and stared at Allen's room. "Sorry about your door. I'll fix it."

"Who fucking cares," Allen said. "Let's fucking murder this bitch."

They both yelped when a terrified scream came from Allen's room. They looked at each other, and then looked behind them at Francois who was staring at them wide eyed.

"What in the holy Hell did I miss?"

"No pun intended," Allen tried.

"Grab a med kit," Matt said. "Take care of Al. I'm going to see what the fuck that was."

Matt turned away from them and let Francois take care of the knife in Allen's back. If he was moving, that meant he would most likely be all right. Matt winced and went back to the room where he found him sitting on the floor with his hands on his head and his back to him.

"What's your deal."

He popped up and turned around. "Mattie?" His eyes were round and full of confusion and concern. "Ma-" He gasped and tried jumping back, but found himself nailed to the floor. "Your neck…" He put his hand to his lips and trembled. "No… I di…I didn't…"

"Stop faking," Matt snapped. "We aren't stupid enough to fall for this twice, you son of a bitch."

He winced. "Mattie!" Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes. "Mattie, I really don't remember doing this. I'm so sorry." He pulled his knees to his chest.

Matt frowned. He was torn. He didn't know whether to trust this or not. He slowly approached the sniffling Brit and wondered just how far the demon would go if it was him. "Do you want a glass of water?"

He nodded and sniffled. "I can't move…"

"I know. Sit tight." He stood straight up and walked into the other room and poured a normal glass of water, then grabbed a glass and found a new jug of holy water that Allen made. He poured the contents in that glass and walked back into the room. He handed the holy water to him.

He didn't hesitate to take it and put it to his lips. He tipped the glass back and immediately yelped in pain. "Ah!" He spat and cried out. "Is that acid?!" He used his shirt to desperately wipe the burning water away.

"Oliver," Matt said. "What's the last thing that you remember from today?"

He looked up and pressed his lips together. He swallowed. "Um… I was playing with some spells. More specifically, I wanted to talk to a spirit. I had no luck for a long time. I even tried a spirit board and got nothing but a jumble of letters." He continued thinking.

Matt held the normal glass out to him. "Trust this one."

Oliver looked at the glass, then at Matt. He took the glass and put it to his lips, trusting Matt completely. "Thank you," he said softly." He looked at the spilled glass on the floor. "What was in that one?"

"Don't worry about it. Keep talking."

Oliver nodded. "Well, I found one that would evoke any spirit for conversation and gave it a try. I needed all kinds of ingredients for it."

"I know," Matt mumbled.

"And… When I tossed a match into my caldron… It blew up in my face. That's all I remember." He looked up at Matt. "I'm so sorry. I bit you." He went to reach out to Matt and the boy shuffled back. Oliver hesitated and hurt crossed over his face.

"Oliver, look up. Do you recognize what's above you?"

He followed Matt's demand and squinted. "That's a Devil's Trap. It holds demons… in…" His face started turning white. He looked back at Matt. "Am I…?"

Francois walked in and shot a glare at Oliver before pulling Matt's hand from his neck and pouring alcohol on his neck.

"Fuck! Ow!" Matt flinched and hissed in pain.

"Oh, man up," Francois knelt beside him. "This needs stitched up."

"Go for it," Matt groaned and looked at Oliver, who was staring into space.

Francois pulled the medical thread out and started stitching the bit wound up, earning pained gasps and grunts from Matt. He finished quickly and taped a pressure bandage on his neck. "You'll be fine. Allen's fine, too."

"Allen," Oliver looked up, worried.

"Fuck off," Francois snapped and stood up.

"Fran," Matt said softly. "I think it's him, not the thing, talking."

Francois blinked and stared at Oliver. There was a long pause before he softly whispered something that Matt had no cue as to what he said. It wasn't French and it wasn't English, but suddenly Oliver was giggling.

Francois mindlessly brushed past Matt and threw his arms around Oliver's neck, hugging him.

"Fran, what the fuck are you-"

"Swear jar," Oliver said through sniffles. He was desperately clinging to Francois and Matt was getting nervous.

"You two need to break it up. Now," Matt demanded, standing up and grabbing Francois' collar.

The Frenchman hesitantly agreed and backed away. He stared down at Oliver and smiled. It was a rare sight. He looked at Matt hopefully. "Is he-"

"Holy water still burns and he's stuck there." He pointed up at the trap. "So, no."

They both looked down at Oliver.

He sniffled again and hugged the glass of water against his chest. "What's going to happen to me, loves?"

Francois sat down on the floor across from Oliver. He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. Mat stepped aside and went to check on Allen, leaving the two to talk.

He found his brother downing a shot of what looked like vodka. He coughed and sett he glass on the table. "Hey, what was the screaming about?" Allen's shirt was resting over his shoulder and Matt saw the bandages crossing over his chest and around his shoulder.

"You need to see for yourself," Matt said, coaxing him over.

Allen hesitated, then made his way to his room and saw Oliver and Francois sitting on the floor, quietly talking.

Oliver looked up at Allen with round puppy dog eyes.

Allen stopped in the door and looked at him for a long moment. "Ollie…?"

The Brit nodded slowly, and Francois gave the silent "OK".

Allen did exactly what Francois did. He stumbled down and threw his good arm around Oliver's neck, hugging him.

"Al," Matt said warningly.

Allen quickly backed away and frowned, looking up. "Oh. He's still…"

Oliver looked down.

"So you don't know of anything that can help," Francois asked Oliver, following up on a previous conversation.

Oliver shook his head and sighed. "As far as I'm concerned, you boys are doing the right thing, calling Luciano and Flavio." He winced and shook his head. "I can feel it, you know?"

They looked at each other and sighed. Matt looked at Francois and Allen. They both looked exhausted, having seen the worst so far.

"You guys should get some sleep. I'll stick around and wake you when the Italians get here." He sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Francois looked at Oliver and a silent conversation passed between them. He stood up and walked into the living room to lay down and possibly sleep.

Allen decided to stay in the room and crawled into his bed. "I'm here if you need me, bro." He threw the covers over his head.

Matt nodded and yawned. Oliver was sitting with his knees to his chest. He looked fragile and small like this, and Matt had a hard time believing that only an hour ago he was gnawing on his neck.

In fact, Oliver wasn't a force to reckon with on a normal day. He often found himself underestimating the Brit's wrath. Just when he thought that Oliver was an innocent bystander, the little terror would twist around and… well, try to bite someone.

Matt wasn't surprised when he was bit. Oliver did worse before, but the fact that he actually was innocent, made him feel sorry for the Brit.

"Poppet," Oliver said, looking up. He seemed drained and tired. "I'm afraid to go to sleep."

Matt frowned. "You'll be alright. Flav and Luci are on their way." He offered a smile. "Everything will be alright."

Oliver hugged his knees and gasped when a pillow and blanket hit his back. He turned around and saw Allen rolling over in bed. "Thank you," he said softly before fixing a small bed in the circle he was confined in.

Matt sat up and turned the main light off and left a lamp on. He looked at the two. Allen had fallen asleep and Oliver was struggling to get comfortable.

"Love," Oliver whispered.

Matt took a step closer. "Yeah, Ol?"

"Will you take this glass," He sat up and held the glass of water out to Matt.

Matt nodded and reached to take the glass when Oliver snatched his wrist and yanked him down aggressively.

Matt stumbled and gasped, crashing into the ground. The Brit's thin arms wrapped around his neck from behind and clamped onto him tightly. Matt struggled to move, but they were both trapped under the trap.

Allen jerked awake and grabbed Oliver from behind and desperately yanked at his wrists to free Matt.

"Fucking bastard," the demon hissed and started kicking at Allen.

When Matt was freed he scrambled away and grabbed Allen's bat, which was lying on the floor.

"I'm sorry, Oliver!" He swung the bat down over his head.

Allen jumped back when the demon hit the floor.

He groaned and got to his knees. The monster glared at Matt and slowly got to his feet.

"Matt, back up," Allen shouted and backed against the wall, grabbing a pillow from the floor.

"What," Matt stepped back quickly and held the bat up in defense.

"The knife he got me with. I took it when Fran got it out of me."

Gavin snickered and pulled the blade from his pocket and twirled it.

"This is the second time the little bastard pulled a fast one on us," Matt growled, and looked at Allen.

They exchanged a knowing look and looked back at the demon. They both pushed from the wall and charged him.

Gavin jumped in surprise and held the knife up, ready to slice someone. Allen got to him first and smothered him with the pillow while Matt yanked the bat back and struck his hand with it, knocking the knife across the room.

They both recoiled and Allen left the pillow to keep him distracted.

They nodded at each other in triumph.

"You little fuckers," Gavin hissed, throwing the pillow.

"Swear jar," Francois said, walking in and throwing a glass of holy water at him.

Gavin flinched and cried out in anger and pain.

Francois looked at the boys. "They're here."

Flavio wasn't in his usual flashy clothes. He was wearing all black, but his fashion sense hadn't been tainted He had a scarf and glasses on as usual. His blonde hair looked slightly untamed and he seemed shaken, especially when he saw Oliver.

Luciano wore his usual "I fucking hate you all" look. Unlike usual, he seemed completely compliant to help.

They had an older man holding a bible behind them, and they both guessed that he was a priest.

"Thank you for coming," Matt said to Flavio, who didn't hesitate to hug the taller boy.

"You know I'm here for you," he backed up and looked at Allen and Francois. "Are you boys alright? You look like hell."

"No pun intended," Allen said, his voice hoarse.

Luciano stifled a laugh at that. "Let me guess," he said. "A Hell of a night?"

"You don't know the half of it," Francois grumbled and looked over his shoulder at the demon, which was happily humming to itself.

"You don't see that every day," Flavio swallowed, seeing his old friend tilt his head to the side and make his eyes the eerie black color.

"Shoulda seem him with blood all over his mouth," Allen groaned.

Flavio's eyes wandered to Matt's neck. "Jesus," he whispered.

"Satan, actually," Gavin corrected.

"Oliver would have a fit if he knew this demon is Scottish, you know," Flavio said and turned to the priest. He spoke in Italian to the man and moved his hands around feverishly.

Allen nudged Luciano and muttered, "Hey. Thanks. You didn't have to-"

"Shut the fuck up," Luciano snapped. "I'm not going to let a fucking demon get away with fucking with another country, even if it is this prick."

"Oh." Allen looked at Matt and they shared an amused glance.

"Besides. For some reason, my brother likes you jerks." He looked up at them. His expression went from hard and angry to soft and somewhat empathetic. "I couldn't let him down." He looked at Francois for a moment, then back to watching Flavio talk to the priest.

Matt tilted his head. For such an uptight and angry guy, Luciano had his moments.

Flavio turned to Allen with a serious expression. "Clean your room."

That was the last thing any of them expected Flavio to come back with.

Allen and Matt both moved all of the furniture away from the demon in the middle of the room.

Allen was quietly humming the song, "We Didn't Start the Fire" the entire time and Matt was about to snap at him when Luciano piped up.

"Can you please go to the next song on your playlist? I don't want that stuck in my head for the rest of my life, thank you."

Matt turned away and started laughing as Allen loudly started reciting the lyrics, word by word. He took his bat and used it as a guitar, bouncing around.

"I get the fucking point," Luciano growled and walked into the other room where Flavio was with the priest.

"You're ignoring the elephant in the room," Francois snapped.

"Excuse you," Gavin retorted.

Allen laughed. "I'm lightening the mood. Come on. He's being quiet. Can't I have a little fun?"

Francois glared between them and noticed Matt composing himself. "You think this is funny?"

"Anything that pisses Luciano off is funny."

"Fuck you, I heard that!"

"See?"

Francois stifled a chuckle at that. He walked out and returned with a chair. He set it against the wall and started drawing on it.

"Another chair trap," Gavin mumbled.

Allen walked over to Francois and assisted in drawing the symbol. Matt started pulling the jugs of holy water in and set them alone the wall.

"Tik tok," Gavin said softly.

"What," Matt stood straight and faced him.

"Tik tok, tik tok," he hummed and clasped his hands behind his back.

Matt frowned and stepped away. Francois and Allen both shifted uneasily.

Gavin tilted his head and glanced at the window. "Tik tok," he said louder.

Flavio, Luciano, and the priest whose name never came up all walked in at that point.

"Is everything alright," Flavio asked. Luciano was already looking uneasily at Gavin.

"Tik tok, tik tok, tik tok, tik tok," he was practically singing it.

They looked at each other uneasily.

"Ignore the bastard," Luciano snapped. "He's just playing with us."

"Tik tok, tik tok, tik tok…."

Francois and Allen held the chair up and thought of how to attach him to it.

Gavin grinned wildly. "Tik tok! Tik tok! Tik-" He stopped and the room went silent. "Oh my," he whispered, looking around the room.

There was a force that threw everyone backwards, hitting the walls. Allen and Francois dropped the chair and Matt almost broke a jug of water open.

Gavin's eyes were black again, and no one could recognize the face as Oliver's. He looked up and Smiled as the walls shook and cracked. The cracks started creeping closer to the symbol confining him when Luciano got up and charged him with a knife.

"Enough!" Luciano threw his arm back, ready to stab the demon in the chest.

Gavin's eyes narrowed on him. He back handed the Italian and slammed him against the wall. Luciano's knife hit the floor and he slumped to the floor.

"Luci," Flavio cried.

Allen darted across the room and went to Luciano's side, rolling him onto his back. "Fuck, fuck fuck," Allen whimpered, pressing his ear to his chest.

"_How dare you_," Flavio shrieked. He hesitated and considered it useless to attack. He turned to the priest and spat something in Italian. The priest yanked his Bible out and found a marked page. The man started reading and held a crucifix up. Flavio grabbed a jug and ran up to Matt. "Use this to keep the bastard at bay. I have to check on Luci."

Matt took the jug and turned to grab another.

Flavio twisted around, his scarf flipping over his shoulder and extended in mid air. It was caught in the slender hands of the monster consuming the old Brit.

The Italian gasped and went to yank away, but was dragged into the circle with the demon.

"Tik tok," Gavin sang. "You're time is up!"

"Fuck, _Flavio_," Matt cried out and opened a jug, about to spray the demon.

He placed his hands on either side of Flavio's head; smiled, and violently jerked to the left making a sickening snapping sound filled the silence.

The water covered their shoulders and the demon screamed in anger, letting Flavio fall limp to the floor. His glasses fell from his face, leaving him wide eyes in shock for eternity.

He let out an ear-piercing scream that made the old priest stop in his words. Everyone collectively covered their ears and Matt dropped the water, letting it spill out over the floor. The walls snapped and cracked and the room shifted and shook. The lights shattered and the storm outside howled in response.

The scream ended and left the room silent. The priest shook and quivered, holding the cross up in protection. Gavin slowly looked down and smiled at the old man. Matt looked up and felt his stomach hit the floor when he noticed that the symbol was cracked through the center.

He helplessly watched as the demon stepped away from the circle and approached the priest, taking the old man by the head and smashing it against the wall, leaving a mess of blood, among other things.

The body flopped to the floor with a thud. His book hit the floor, as did the crucifix. He turned to Matt just to have water thrown in his face. He staggered backwards and shouted out in pain. Francois tackled him to the ground and held him down. He was breathing heavily and looked as if he was still recovering from shock.

Gavin suddenly went limp in his grasp and groaned in a familiar voice.

"O-Oliver," Matt said softly, shaking.

"Mathieu," Francois said sternly. "Get the book and crucifix. We're finishing this before…" He couldn't bring himself to look at the body of his younger kin.

Matt ran over and grabbed the book, finding the page that the priest had open and grabbed the cross as well. Francois had Oliver on his back and was pinning his shoulders down.

"Oliver," he said softly.

The small Brit's eyes fluttered open to reveal the pale blue color that they'd all come to know. "Poppet?"

Francois said that word again. Matt tried figuring out what he'd said but failed.

Oliver didn't giggle at it this time, and simply tilted his head. "_What_…?"

The Frenchman growled grabbed the jug that Matt dropped and poured the remaining contents over him, burning him.

"Fuck, Francois what the fuck are you doing," he cried.

"I'll explain what I said later, but this isn't Oliver. You aren't pulling a fast one on me."

The black eyes returned and Gavin hissed in anger. "_You fuck_!"

"Read." Francois took the crucifix and pressed it against the demon's forehead, earning a shriek of pain and agony. Matt started reading the passage, and the monster struggled and hissed even more. Francois struggled to keep him on the floor, pinned. He had all of his weight on him and he was still being shoved around like a rag doll.

Matt did his best to pronounce everything perfectly, and he seemed to be making progress. He started saying each word with more confidence and the demon hissed and growled in pain.

Oliver's chest rose slightly and he opened his mouth as if to scream. Instead, a thick, black smoke seeped out and started covering the floor. There was a choking sound coming from his throat as the smoke bled out.

It drained from his mouth, leaving Oliver stiff for a few moments. As if snapping under the pressure, Oliver broke to the floor with a gasp. The smoke stayed as Matt continued, and shot outward.

The room went dark for a moment, as Matt said the last words. At the last sentence of the passage, the room shook violently and anyone standing stumbled to the floor.

Silence.

Matt was leaning against the wall, panting and shaking. Francois stayed next to Oliver and looked up to see Luciano sitting up. He cringed and looked away, waiting for what was going to come next.

Allen backed away from the Italian and swallowed. Luciano turned around and scanned the room. He flinched at the sight of his priest, but his eyes rested on his brother.

"Flavio," he choked out. Luciano got to his feet and ran to his older brother's side. "Flavi…" He rested his hands on Flavio's arm and leaned over. "Flavio, _no_. Wake up." He shook and bit back tears. "Wake up, damn you!" He shoved at his body and let out a sob. "You can do this to me damn it, _wake up_!" He reached around Flavio and hugged his chest, wailing. "Wake up! _Wake the fuck up_!" Ha gritted his teeth and breathed, "Please…"

Allen shakily stood and went to his side, careful not to startle the Italian. "Luci, I'm so fucking sorr-" He choked on his own tears. "I'm s-"

"Don't be," Luciano whispered, sitting up. "You …you loved him. It isn't like you… you didn't want…" He shook and put his hands over his face. No one in the room had ever seen such weakness from him since Holy Rome has passed.

Allen got on his knees and laid an arm around Luci. He expected him to shove him away and curse, but he wanted to offer something.

Instead, the Italian crumpled against Allen's chest and sobbed. Allen froze for a moment, but hugged him, letting him cry.

Oliver slowly sat up and stared forward.

Francois put his hand on his shoulder and tried getting his attention, but the Brit didn't move.

His lips parted, but closed again. Francois looked down and picked the Brit up. He looked down at Allen.

"Go on, get him out of here. I'll…" Allen looked around the room. He was taking responsibility for the mess and Francois couldn't be more thankful for his help.

Matt slowly stood and followed Francois to Oliver's room where he laid him in bed and stood back.

"What was that word," Matt asked numbly.

Francois frowned and went to the desk Oliver had and pulled out a pen and paper. He wrote a word down and walked over to Matt, handing it to him.

Matt looked at the paper and blinked at the word Francois scribbled down.

"Poppet? You said poppet?" He looked at him questioningly.

"It's hard to say with the accent," he explained. "Oliver found it so humorous that when I say it, he always laughs."

Matt shook his head and handed the paper back to him. "Good trick," he said, walking out of the room.

A week passed. Within that week, there were two funerals, and Matt opted to stay home with Oliver, who hadn't said a word in that time.

The house was eerily silent. Allen offered to let Luciano stay, and for a few days, he did. He was almost as silent at Oliver, but they all saw as he hardened. He left three days into his stay without much warning. He'd said that he couldn't cry forever, and Flavio would kill him if he let Italy go to Hell.

In the end, he offered to keep in contact.

Allen spent a lot of time in his room, repairing the damage from the previous events. No one cared to go into the room it had stated it.

Francois took the initiative to take care of Oliver. He never talked, ate, or did much of anything. He would eat if given food, but Francois feared he would starve himself if there were no one to help.

Matt used his time to help Allen. He was in charge of the heavy lifting and architectural work.

"Hey, Matt," Allen called down from the stepladder he stood on. "Will you hand me the paint can on the shelf over there?" He pointed above his dresser where there was a shelf full of knickknacks and such.

Matt nodded and walked over to where the paint was and grabbed it and the brush set next to it. He walked up and handed the items to his brother.

Allen took them and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm never going to get that sound out of my head," he said softly. He held the paintbrushes tightly.

Matt looked down and sighed. Flavio was like extended family to them. The world felt so…empty.

Allen started painting over the plaster that was used to fix the cracks left in the wall. He very steadily finished the last of the lines, careful not to let it drip.

"I can't believe you're keeping that thing," Matt said, looking up and studying the design.

"Well, now that I know that it actually works," he started, trailing off. Matt gave him a puzzled look and sighed, giving up on lecturing him. "Look, I know it failed on us a few times but… I really want to have something." He dropped his arm and bit his lip. "Do you think Oliver's going to be alright?"

Matt leaned against the ladder. "I think after a while he'll perk back up. Give him time, okay?"

Allen reached up and painted the last of the symbol and stepped down. "Look, Matt… Thank you. Without you, who knows where we'd be…" He looked up at his brother. "You're the best brother a guy could ask for." He put his arms around the Canadian and held his breath, forcing himself to not cry.

Matt sighed and patted Allen's back. He wasn't big into hugs, but there were always exceptions.

Allen pulled away and grabbed the ladder, taking it to another wall. "It's gonna take fucking forever to fix this place."

"We're almost done," Matt said, looking up at the ceiling.

Allen nodded. "I guess so. Alright, can you grab the white paint from the garage while I mix the plaster?" He grabbed the mixture and started mixing and applying the stuff to the cracks on the wall.

Matt frowned. "I don't think so."

Allen looked up and frowned. "Dude, I just got done praising you. Don't be a dick." He watched as his brother continued looking at his handiwork on the paint job. "Did I miss a spot or something," he looked at the symbol that he once related to television show.

"No," Matt said, looking back at his brother with a smile. "That's the problem."

_His eyes turned black._

* * *

**_A/N: Thank you for reading. Please inform me if I've made any mistakes in typing or anything. _**


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